A quiet notice V2Melody closes at midnight on , Spanish time.

Closes

A note from Richard

V2Melody will close at midnight on 20 January 2028

This site has been a retirement project in musical poetry: poems chosen with care and set to music, offered freely for as long as it felt right to keep the garden open.

The work no longer holds the place it once did in my life. I have gone as far with it as I wish to go. Like a sand mandala, it was made to be completed and then released. I am not attached to its permanence, and I do not believe any of it needs to last beyond the time it was given.

I want a simpler life, without the hassle of being online. The work of maintaining a server, the monitoring, and the residual obligations that come with keeping a site alive no longer fit the life I want.

From 4 November 2026 I will not be adding new poems or musical poems to the site.

Until midnight on 20 January 2028, Spanish time, everything remains available exactly as it is. That is when my VPS server contract comes to an end, and it will not be renewed. After that, the server will be switched off and the site will disappear.

Thank you to anyone who found a poem, a track, or a quiet moment here.

The pleasure was in the making.

Richard



Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.032 apart. A smaller distance means the lines are built more alike.

This number is read from the build of the lines. The bright edge is that number, carried outward until the pattern repeats.

If women could be fair

by Edward de Vere

0.0753 + 0.2809i

Drawing the boundary…

The One Gift

by Philip Bourke Marston

0.0985 + 0.2594i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

Each poem scrolls on its own, so the two texts stay beside each other.

If women could be fair

by Edward de Vere

If women could be faire and never fond,
or that their beautie might continue still:
I would not mervaile though they made men bond,
by service long, to purchase their good will.
But when I see, how frail these cretures are:
I laugh, that men forget themselves so far.

To marke what choise they make, and how they change,
how leving best the worst they chose out stil:
And how like haggards wilde, about they range,
Skorning after reason to follow will.
Who would not shake such bussards from the fist,
And let them flie (faire fooles) which way they list.

Yet for our sport, wee fawne and flatter both,
To passe the time, when nothing else can please:
And traine them on to yeeld by subtill oath,
The sweet content, that gives such humour ease.
And then wee say, when wee their follies trie,
To play with fooles, Oh what a foole was I.

The One Gift

by Philip Bourke Marston

And can I give thee nothing, oh, my queen? 
Have I no gifts to cast down at thy feet, — 
No crown which for thy wearing might be meet? 
Yet, when thy hand my hands I take between, 
When round my neck thine arms encircling lean. 
When 'neath thy quickening kiss, prolonged and sweet. 
My heart, on fire, seems audibly to beat, 
And yearn to thine so distant and serene, 

I feel that it is better as it is; 
Better that all the glory should be thine. 
Than I, indeed, should give thee bliss for bliss. 
While things are thus, one gift may yet be mine; 
But couldst thou love me once as I love thee, 
Giftless indeed, beloved, I should be. 

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